


Off to Sleep

by Outofangband



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brief description of disassociation, Family, Hurt/Comfort, I love their relationship, Valinor, arda, brief description of PTSD, three times, very underrated friendship/kinship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outofangband/pseuds/Outofangband
Summary: (three times Fingolfin met Maedhros in the middle of the night. Hurt comfort/familial relationship centered.)





	Off to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> A short piece to help deal with writers block which I've had for a week. I want to start experimenting with new styles and maybe even new characters/fandoms soon but in the meantime…

 “Nelya? What are you doing?” Nolofinwë‘s voice was somewhere between amusement and exasperation. He could have sworn he had deposited his sleeping nephew safely in his room not five minutes previously. The elfling did not look at all ashamed. Instead, he stared up at his uncle with a politely confused expression, his favorite blanket dragging along the ground beside him. Nelyafinwë blinks.   
     “Looking for you,” he replies with something akin to a stammer though from his tone it could not have been clearer that he thought his uncle’s initial question rather foolish.   
     “Why were you looking for me?”  Nolofinwë relents, his voice softer as he observes his half brother’s child.   
”    Want to be awake with you!” Nelya says brightly through a yawn that causes him to stretch to his tiptoes. Nolofinwë could not hide a smile as he reached out to take his nephew’s hand.   
”You were awake with me all afternoon,” he tells the elfling gently, “And you will be awake with me all morning. But now it is time to sleep. Surely you are tired?” Nelya shrugs, barely suppressing another yawn.   
    “Come,” Nolofinwë suggests, “Let us go back to your room. I will stay with you until you fall asleep. So you will not have to be awake without me, yes?” He looks down to see if Nelya will consider this to be fair. It seems to take some time for the younger elf to decide but eventually, he nods, his small face furrowed in thought.   
    “Alright,” Nelya agrees, pulling on his uncle’s hand until Nolofinwë relents and leans down to pick up the child in his arms, resting his head on his shoulder. He carries him down to his bedroom, sure Nelya will be half asleep by the time they arrive. And he is right. Putting the elfling down on his bed, Nolofinwë observes with a smile that his nephew eye’s are fluttering and his hands have relaxed. Fortunately, he has tucked his blanket into his pajama pocket so there is no risk of it falling. Carefully, so as not to rile him, Nolofinwë moves the bedspreads down and over Nelya, bending down to kiss his forehead. The child reaches up to touch his uncle’s face gently before turning around and nodding off.   
                                                              …

     Nolofinwë  was startled as he turned the corner into the sleeping wings to find that he was not the only one up.   
    “Nelya?” he sighs, setting his teacup down on one of the small tables by the doors. Nelyafinwë too seems quite surprised. He turns around quickly as though he had just been caught in a wrongdoing. Nolofinwë  smiles wearily and raises his hands.    
    “I am sorry, I did not expect others to be up,” he explains. Nelya nods, stepping into the dim light of one of the torches so Nolofinwë can note ,with some concern, how unsettled he looked.   
    “I could not sleep,” the younger elf shrugs, “I heard…I heard you and Atya  _speaking_.” This last part is said closer to a whisper, as though Nelya fears being rebuked for his observation. Nolofinwë merely sighs again however and picks up his mug. His nephew is nearing his coming of age, it was pointless to leave him to speculate without some form of explanation, even if it would hardly be a reassuring one. Nevertheless, it is late and his earlier “discussion” with Curufinwë is not something he particularly wants to get into.   
    “I hope we did not wake you,” is all he could say for a few minutes, “We…we did get quite loud.” He offers a slightly embarrassed expression.   
    Nelya shakes his head, “I could not sleep before either,” he admits. Nolofinwë’s brow furrows. He knows that the long standing feud which had so recently reached a breaking point was hard on Curufinwë‘s eldest who had presumably spent the last several weeks acting as something of a diplomat between the children of both families. Something like guilt curls up inside him, followed by bitter resentment.  _He_  had not wanted this to happen!   
   “Try and get some rest, Nelya,” Nolofinwë suggests gently, “Nothing will change before the morning. I give you my word.” He offers his nearly full cup of tea to his nephew who takes it with a few murmured words of gratitude.   
    “You should get some rest too, Uncle,” Nelya says quietly, with some hesitance. Nolofinwë wonders just how distraught and agitated he must have looked. Nelya is not usually so nervous around him.   
    “I will,” the older elf promises, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from Nelya’s face, earning a small smile that flickers back to nervous exhaustion in an instant. 

                                                         …

    “Nelya!” Fingolfin cried out, startling two servants who had walked by carrying baskets of grains, “What are you doing out of bed? You are bleeding!” But he cuts himself off. Beside alerting half the inhabitants of the hall to what was happening, Fingolfin’s outburst had no effect on Maedhros who continued walking. It is not until Fingolfin manages to step to the side so he is right in front of his nephew that he can see the glazed look on his face; glassy eyes, vacant expression, blood trickling down an unhealed cut on his face and arm. Highly unsettled, Fingolfin managed, with difficulty to get the younger elf’s attention, putting his hands on his shoulders until his vision seemed to focus. Unfortunately, this seemed to make things worse. As soon as Maedhros took in his surroundings, his expression was taken over by fear, his eyes widening like those of a startled horse’s. Quickly and efficiently, Fingolfin ordered the remaining servants from the hall.   
    “Nelya…” he begins, “Do you remember me?” It always has to start like this. Though Fingolfin has seen his nephew more than six times since he had been brought back to the camp by Finno, each meeting required a repetition of these basic questions, (do you know who I am, do you know where you are?), sometimes with rather disconcerting answers. This was not, as Fingolfin was assured by the healers, the result of from amnesia or such, but “merely” because he was so often frightened into a state of disconnect that even the most simple details seemed to escape his understanding.   
    Nelya shrugs halfheartedly. His panic has lessened slightly but his eyes still glance warily around him, darting from his uncle’s face to the doors ahead of him and back.   
    “Perhaps you should get back in bed?” Fingolfin suggests gently, trying to gauge his nephew’s understanding of the situation. Maedhros blinks.   
    “Al-alright,” he murmurs, “I…I am sorry. I did not mean…” he shakes his head, looking bewildered for a moment.   
    “Do not worry about it now,” Fingolfin says quickly though he is not quite sure what he is telling Maedhros not to worry about. Whatever it is, surely it can wait, “You are exhausted. And I will need to fix the bandage on your arm and face.” For a moment, an uncomfortable understanding seems to come over Maedhros and he looks down at the trail of blood. Shock and horror spread over his face so completely that Fingolfin is almost relieved when, in less than another minute, the younger elf’s eyes glaze over again and his slightly bemused expression returns.   
    “I will go,” he says in a dully determined sort of voice, and allows his uncle to lead him back to the small room in the back of the healing wings. 


End file.
